Today it's the feast of St Stephen and, as in the days when Good King Wenceslaus went out, the snow is crisp and even, if not all that deep. In Australia we call today Boxing Day, but here it's Annandagsjul (the second day of Christmas), but in both places it is the start of the post-Christmas sales.

I never ever got into all that in Australia and I haven't changed my mind here in Sweden. From watching news reports of the insanity out there on these days, I figure I'm well out of it. There seems to be no sign of mercy, no yuletide spirit in evidence. Normally quiet, passive people elbow each other in the kidneys for the sake of a handbag. Exhausted mothers wrestle for the last Christmas decorations and kids scream and scream. Instead of joy, there is an air of stress, despair and shopping rage. How quickly the "Joy of the Season" wears off!

Our Christmas celebrations were wonderful, as you would expect from a person who scored this as her favourite Christmas movie.

Your Christmas is Most Like: Miracle on 34th Street

Sweet and caring, Christmas is about helping for you. While Santa may not exist, you try to share his spirit.

Actually, my favourite Christmas movie is Blackadder's Christmas Carol, which is now traditional Christmas viewing in this house. I'd also love to find a copy of Bernard and the Genie on video as that's another classic that I'm sure Lars-Göran would appreciate. Alas, no luck scoring that one yet, but I'm looking around.

We celebrated with the family on December 24th. We set off on the train, laden with champers, goodies and pressies for Stockholm, with some members of the family scoring appreciative looks for being Christmassy.



Our first stop was at my mother-in-law's house to set up and decorate her tree and iron a large, snow-white linen jacquard table cloth for her dining room. Oh joy! Then we rugged her and ourselves up well and wheeled her around the corner to her oldest son's home, which was lit up like ... well... like a Christmas tree, I guess.



They have recently built on this wonderful glass conservatory, complete with underfloor heating. It's a beautiful, practical room and the perfect setting for our Christmas meal.

All of the family was there - 12 in all. After the greetings, it was time to get stuck into the glögg and goodies while we sat for the all-important 3pm viewing of Kalle Anka that I spoke about last year. I'm still rather bemused about this, but everyone has fun - old favourites were shown and howls of protest from the younger members of the family when they tried to pass off the Bambi segment as something "new" - after all, as my nephew said it's at least a million years old! This year it was presented by Ernst Kirchsteiger after the tv station decided to have a new presenter every year.

I talked about this with my sister-in-law as we prepared the meal and we both agreed that we were not fond of him and his tv shows. They are shows where he renovates summer houses and he is just a bit too perfect in an annoying Martha Stewart way. Sure, it all looks magnificent and we're impressed he does all that hard work without a drop of sweat, one swear word, hair perfectly done and his cream outfit unsoiled but it's a bit unreal. Christmas is not about perfection, and we felt that he had laid on the trimmings a bit too thick.

When Kalle Anka was finished, we went with the children to the cemetary where their grandfather is buried to light candles and remember him. As at Alla Helgons Dag, the graveyard was a sea of glowing candles flickering in the darkness and a very moving sight.

When we goy back to the house, we began to set out the food for dinner. It looked wonderful! You can just see my sister-in-law and myself in the background doing last minute garnishing.



On the counter are several dishes of sill (herring) in a variety of sauces, a beetroot salad, a platter of delicious smoked salmon thinly sliced, a cheese platter, a tray of different types of bread, little prince sausages, Swedish meatballs, halved boiled eggs topped with caviar, crayfish and prawns, julskinka (cured ham baked in a breadcrumb and mustard crust), smoked mettwurst, marinated rib roast, tjälknöl (moose cooked slowly then marinted in brine), boiled potatoes and a platter of sliced raw vegetables.

Everybody served themselves and took their laden plates out to the table set up in the conservatory. With the shimmering candle light and fairy lights reflected in the glass it created a cosy, friendly scene.



Of course we are all hamming it up for the camera - apart from me. I'm too busy trying to keep the squirming dog quiet and still. After several trips to the smörgåsbord, the kids were fully stuffed and staggered inside to lay on the sofa while the adults chatted outside.



I was chatting about Christmas in Australia and how very different it was to Sweden, including the fact that Santa comes when our kids are asleep, wheras tomte comes openly straight after dinner.

My youngest step-daughter told us about her most memorable Christmas. She was aged around six or seven and wavering about whether tomte was real or not, no doubt heped along by her older siblings who asked her why their grandpa or dad or their uncle suddenly needed to go out and buy a newspaper just before tomte arrived. Aren't big brothers and sisters wonderful?

What none of them knew, however, was that my sister-in-law had organised a treat. One of her workmates told her about her father who loved to dress up as tomte, go out in his sleigh drawn by a reindeer and arrive at the house ringing his bell and carrying a lantern as well as the sack full of presents. So they organised for him to also come to distribute the gifts at their home. This was held at my in-law's two-storey villa and from the picture window in the living room, you could see for miles. When grandpa spotted tomte, he called the six grand-children over to see. Annelie said she was stunned. A quick headcount revealed that everyone was present, so who was this arriving in a sleigh? She said it confirmed her belief for another few years and nothing the others told her made her change her mind. She remembered it as the best Christmas ever.

And speaking of tomte, here he is.



Gift giving is a long process, but also a lot of fun. What adds to the enjoyment is that Swedes don't simply write To Marie from Kate on the gift tag. Instead they come up with a Christmas rhyme, usually a funny, cryptic short rhyming description of the gift. Everyone joins in in trying to guess what is in the parcel. With gifts for all of us to be given out, it can be a lengthy and riotous experience. I rather like the idea of these julrim as it is far more personal.

Everyone laughed when Lars-Göran received this box of Gröna Kulor from Lambi, Bruce and Sheila. People were speculating about how they had bought them, as dogs are not allowed in the supermarkets here. We decided that the cockatiels must have taken a short break from eating the Christmas cards and flown down with the money clamped tight in their little beaks. It was a perfect choice of gift for my sweet toothed husband. He adores them. I find them incredibly sweet. They are basically a sugar coated fruit jelly, about the size of those large marbles (4cm diameter). I watched him open the box and scoff 8 of them immediately! Remember, this is straight after Christmas dinner. Where does he put it all?

It was well after midnight when we finally made our way home. Bed never felt more inviting after such a long day. We were happy with the gifts we got as well as those we gave. I was especially happy that one of my friends here in Sweden sent me a moose serviette holder.



However did she know?